Nowhere
by Another.Brick.In.The.Wall2
Summary: Juliet's little sister, Olivia, is sent to spy on the flight 815 survivors instead of Ethan. Not sure where this is going yet, but of couse, I do not own Lost.
1. Day 1

I sit in the school desk, bored out of my mind. I doodle a picture of the bench by the lake, that Juliet and I go to all the time. I ignore the teacher, she's teaching some younger kids elementary math, though I'm supposed to be doing the calculus worksheet she gave me. It was easy, I completed it in no time. Juliet taught the work to me yesterday, after the teacher attempted and failed.

I sigh, semi-dramatically, as I want to get out of here and go do something. Something actually important. Like what Juliet does; she's trying to help people. I've pleaded for Juliet to let me work with her, but to no avail. I smile at the memory.

* * *

_"Come on, Jewels, I'd be a great assistant!" I plead with her, leaning across the island counter (ironic enough) in the center of our small kitchen._

_"I'm sure you would be... In a couple of years." She raises her eyebrows for emphasis as she watches her hands expertly chop the tomatoes for dinner tonight, though failing in her attempt to conceal her smile._

_"Pretty please? I'll work really hard! I'll even do," I lean farther to get close to her face-which stops her from working-and I whisper, "The cleaning."_

_"Olive, I know you want to help, but you're still too young. You know Ben would never approve." Juliet denies in a light tone, though dropping serious at the mention of Ben._

_But she snaps herself out of it to smile down to me. "But how about," she let's a wide smile grace her features, "I teach you more advanced mathematics and engineering so you can start helping sooner." She winks at me as she goes back to work preparing the meal._

_"I think I can live with that." I lean back and try to appear nonchalant, and hide my inner excitement, but Juliet calls my bluff._

_"But until then, you can be my little helper." She sends down over her shoulder after I walk around the table._

_I stand on my tip toes and reach over her shoulder to grab a pepperoni slice and push it into my mouth. She subtly puts her utensils down on the table and about-faces to lean against the counter, facing me as I lean against the opposite counter. "Would you like your first lesson on the job?" She raises an eyebrow. I can't tell if she's serious or joking, so I give her a suspicious nod, standing straight._

_She quickly wipes her hands with some rag from the table and slowly circles me, and I try to watch her as much as I can. She stops behind me. "First lesson," she says in the same matter-of-fact tone she gives me when she's working, "is to not eat the ingredients!"_

_Before I can process, her hands are invading my stomach. Juliet tickles me and I try to defend myself, but it's not really working. It's uncontrollable. Throughout our joyful laughter, I finally manage to pin her arms crossed across my torso, hands on my waist. We both still together, smiles lingering as she holds me and I hold her arms._

_"I want it to stay like this. Right now." Juliet comments, as I agree. She kisses the top of my head._

* * *

I get a little antsy, longingly staring out the window. Juliet and I's laughter fills my mind as I daydream about being outside, how the sunshine would feel on my face, how the grass would feel under my feet.

I am deep in my mind when I hear the class door open. I glance to the room on the other side of the room to the door, and am surprised to see Ben standing in the doorway. We look directly at each other, but doesn't back down when I realize he's staring at me. He holds my eye contact, but speaks to Mr. Clayton, the teacher. Clayton turns back to me. "Olivia, you are dismissed." The teacher huffs. I am quick to grab my books and slide out of the desk in one swift movement, then walk to the doorway. Ben touches the small of my back, leading me away, and I make sure to send a smug smile over my shoulder to Clayton, who just deadpans and closes the door as soon as I'm out.

I finally let my mind wonder on his intentions as Ben leads me out of the tiny schoolhouse. Why did he come and get me? He's never pulled me from lessons before.

We are just outside the door when I yank myself away from Ben's hand and turn towards him. "Ben, what's going on? Where's Juliet?" I ask immediately. He keeps his face straight, void of emotion.

"She's fine, Olivia. This is about you." He says, voice cold-as usual. But I'm still skeptical, like I am usually with Ben.

"I wanna see her." I persist. I need to know she's okay.

"Just come with me, Olivia." Ben grabs my arm and tries to lead me away, but I yank my arm from his grip again.

"No, Ben. Let me see my sister." I demand, staying firm as I feel proud of myself for standing up to the unrelenting Benjamin Linus. He-though-is unimpressed.

"Olivia. I need you to grow up and listen to me. This is _important_." Ben snaps. I inhale sharply-being the object of Ben's wrath is _not_ an enjoyable place to be-and shut my mouth firmly. I am, once again, reminded of why Juliet isn't fond of him. After he's stared me down for a couple of seconds and seen that I've backed down, he turns back around on his heels and walks in the direction we were originally going. Sighing, I give up and catch up to him and walk slightly behind him, blindly following.

I was correct in my imagination of his good the sun would feel on my skin, it warms me and fends off the bad feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. Ben is always up to something and I still haven't seen Juliet with my own eyes. Ben seems as apathetic as ever, crisply responding to the polite greetings thrown our way as we speed walk through the town.

Ben takes me to his own house. Though I've been forced to attend dinner parties with Juliet there, I'm surprised that he's taking me into his home. He casually opens the door, yet slightly hurriedly, but acts as though this isn't completely out of the ordinary.

Ben firmly closes the door behind me as I step into the living room. Alex is there on the couch, reading a book. "Hey Alex." I smile; she's always been nice to me.

"Hey Liv." She smiles back, but is abruptly stopped from saying anything more.

"This is no time for pleasantries. _Olivia_?" He snaps callously, but somehow maintains the urgency and control that only Ben can. I nod a goodbye to Alex, which she returns, and am suddenly enclosed in Ben's office.

I am thoroughly surprised, again one of Ben's unfailing capabilities, to see Ethan and Goodwin already in the office. They look anxious, their nervous expressions making the entire room heavy.

"What's going on?" I sheepishly say, shocked by the obvious seriousness of the situation.

Goodwin looks at Ben and receives approval to approach me. "Olivia, there's been a plane crash." He says gently, but stern at the same time, taking my books from my arms and setting them on the desk.

My jaw drops. The island has done some crazy things in the past, but this tops it all. "Is everyone alright?" I say, shocked but not really understanding.

"I'm afraid not. They were coming from Sydney, Australia to Las Angeles, California." Ben explains. I still don't get it.

"Ben, I'm confused. I don't understand what I have to do with any of this." I state, before glancing at the other two men in the room.

"You're going to be a passenger." Ben states, almost irritated. He's never been forthcoming with information, so I can clearly gauge the high level of importance this is. That doesn't diminish the fear that feel.

"_Me_?" I express doubt, eyes wide.

"Yes." Ben states curtly, "You're young, unassuming, innocent-looking. People won't question a girl. And I can count on you right?" Ben raises an eyebrow.

"Yes sir." I say immediately, as though that's obvious. No one denies Ben, except-it seems-_Juliet_. But she's an entirely different story.

"Great. Then there's no time to spare. The plane crashed approximately half an hour ago, which means we can have you over there by the end of the hour." Ben rambles information, "You're going to go under with Goodwin, as your father." Goodwin sends a small, melancholy-like smile to me. "Don't worry about them knowing you weren't on the plane, Ethan will add you both to the stand-by list immediately. Goodwin will explain the objective and you two can create your back-story on the boat, we need to leave now."

Once again I feel myself being dragged along by Ben and-once again-I feel myself yanking from his grip. "What's in it for me?" I demand. I'm not going to endanger myself for some petty reward.

Ben doesn't seem stalled, yet another infuriating quality of him, and responds. "Well I'll let you go home, of course." He says it as though it's the most common thing in the world. Three years of making us stay here, and I just have to spy on some plane crash survivors to get us home. But then I'm suspicious. He only said 'you'.

"Juliet too." I demand stubbornly. I notice the brief flinch that crosses his face, he hadn't been expecting that. He hadn't expected me to catch the fine details of the deal.

"Juliet too." He confirms. Now it's my turn to be caught off guard, but I am content with the accord. Ben then grabs my arm again, but I resist, aggravating him.

"What more do you want!" Ben exasperates, thoroughly annoyed, "We don't have time for this."

"I want to tell her goodbye." I request firmly, meaning Juliet, and cross my arms.

"I can't let you do that. She's busy with plane crash. But we need to leave, now." Ben denies, now successfully ushering me out the door.

"Will you tell her I said goodbye?" I said, projecting my voice loud enough so Alex can hear, having a witness.

"I'll tell her." He agrees finally, just wanting to get me out of the house.

Ben leads me across the town, Goodwin and Ethan escorting on both sides. We finally get to the edge of the town and I glance back at the place I've been held in for the past three years, hoping this will be one of the last times I see it. The only exception being to collect Juliet and then directly leave. But I am not allowed to imagine for long before I am lead down a path, in the edge of the woods, that I have never been down before.


	2. Day 1, Part II

I walk with Ben and Goodwin and Ethan to a small sailboat roped to a dock I had never seen before. I follow them down the small wooden path to the edge of the dock. Ben and Ethan climb onto the boat first and begin to get things ready to sail. Goodwin steps in next, offering me a hand. I take it and he lifts me into the boat from under my arms. He sets me on my feet and I climb to the front of the boat. I allow Goodwin, Ethan, and Ben to untie us and we set away from the dock. I feel the wind whipping through my hair as we sail away from the island. Away from my sister. And away from the eerie sense of normality.

Goodwin sits next to me as we're both rocked by the rough waves of the ocean between the two islands. But he doesn't say anything. We just sit, taking in the situation.

But it only lasts a moment, as we get closer and closer to the other island. I exhale, narrowing my mind to this crazy mission Ben is sending us on. "What's our objective?" I look stoically at Goodwin. It's a quality both Juliet and I seem to have, the ability to have this extraordinary control over ourselves. It's a curse and a blessing, really, and definitely makes life in our house _interesting_.

Thinking about Juliet makes my heart clinch. I can't believe I just _left_, without saying goodbye. She'll probably worry sick about me. She's always been overprotective, but I know it's just because she loves me. I make a vow to myself that I'll get back to her as soon as I can, and get us both off this godforsaken island.

"We're to make a list of people we think worthy of being brought to the village." Goodwin answers my question.

"Why?" I ask, curious, but I also want to know what I'm getting myself in to. Not that I really have a choice.

"Ben says Jacob wants them." Is all Goodwin responds with, and really, that's all I need. I know better than to question Jacob's divinity and Ben's authority to enforce it. And I'm not in this for Jacob. I'm in this for Juliet and I. So we can go home. She once told me it's important to remember that we are not one of these people; we don't belong here. It was when we first arrived on the island, and I remember the conversation clearly.

* * *

_"Jewels, can I sleep with you?" I ask sheepishly from the doorway, vulnerably holding myself._

_"Of course, come here." Juliet throws back the covers next to her. I crawl in next to her, snuggling against her warm body as she pulls the covers back up. She rubs soft circles on my arm as we lay in front of each other, faces inches apart._

_"What's wrong?" She asks, her voice soft and gentle._

_"I had another nightmare." I whisper in response, slightly shy about it._

_"About being stuck on the island?" She inquires further. I sadly nod in response. "Olive, there's nothing to be worried about. You know I'll always protect you."_

_"I know, Jewels, it just scares me, being imprisoned here. That Ben man, I don't like the way he looks at you. And everybody whispers. I just think there's something that everybody else knows that we don't. This place is too secretive." I try to sound convincing, but my voice is really too shaky to effectively convey my point._

_"I know, Olive. Something's wrong here and I don't like either of us here. You know I'm trying to get us out of here as fast as possible. But just remember, we aren't one of them. We're different. Because as scary as they seem, we aren't like that. We'll be gone before you know it." She is fighting hard to persuade me, I can tell, but I trust her, thought not everyone else in this strange town. Little did I know, we'd both be still stranded on the island three years later_.

* * *

"So what's the criteria?" I ask, pulling myself to the current situation, "How are we supposed to know who's _worthy_ and who's not?" It seems harsh to me to label people like that, and leave the _unworthy_ to live in the forest like the uncivilized.

"Our job is to identify survivors that are _good_. We'll have one week. If there's any question about them, it's an assumed no." Goodwin's voice is slow and steady, the exact opposite of my racing heart, and is accommodating, making sure I fully understand our mission. "Every night I will meet Ethan at a set location, to check in for progress. But you don't need to worry about that at all." I understand why he won't tell me where they're meeting; they are placing precautions in place in case I become compromised. I resist the temptation of rolling my eyes, but I know it's not Goodwin's doing. It's Ben's. But I just nod.

"But we need to distress our clothing and establish a cover." Goodwin reminds me, eyes flickering to the impending shoreline. I nod again, agreeing.

I watch as Goodwin pulls his collared polo off to reveal a white wife-beater, then copy his actions, stripping myself of the pink blouse Juliet had made me wear, though grateful for the tank top I was also forced into. He starts to rip at his shirt, and when I try to imitate him on my own blouse, he stops me. "Just leave it here. You'll be thankful later." He advises and I quickly toss the shirt into the small cabin underneath my seat, "Lose the shoes, too." Goodwin commands. He continues with his shirt before pausing for a second and adding, "We'll find you another pair." Fine by me, I'd go barefoot any day. I happily toss the shoes to join my shirt. Goodwin must think that my shorts are already alright, because he doesn't comment on them. They're navy and very short, much to my pleasure, and much to Juliet's displeasure. But it was a battle I found victory in this morning.

As he continues to adapt his clothing, he glances up at me, I suppose to have a final check. "Your necklace. It has to come off." He points to the silver locket around my neck, that incases a small photo of Juliet and I from before we came to the island. I begrudgingly unsnap it and toss it down to my shoes, feeling as though I just un-clasped a part of my own heart and threw it into the cabin. I've _never_ taken the necklace off, not since Juliet and I got matching ones for Christmas right before Mom died.

"So what's our story?" I emptily ask, still mourning the loss of my necklace.

"Well, I am your father. My name is Peter and I'm 46. Your name is Sophia, you're 12-" he starts, but I interrupt him.

"But that's three years younger than I really am. No one will believe that I'm 12." I object.

"Trust me, no one will believe that you're 15 without asking questions, either." He retorts then continues, "Our last name is Johansson. We are from San Francisco, California, where your mother, Rachel is."

"Why where we in Australia?" I try to assure that our bases are covered.

"Your mother, who's a nurse, works a lot and she suggest us to on a trip together during your school's fall break. So we visited my old college roommate, Robert Bennett, in Sydney to visit him." He explains.

"Why do we even need cover names?" I ask directly.

"In case they overhear our names." Is all the explanation Goodwin gives. I don't really understand, but I accept it.

But we're really close to shore now, the knot in my stomach gets tighter, and Ben slows the boat down. He comes to the front of the boat to join us. "Do you know what you need to do?" Ben asks, apathetically looking down at me. Yes, I need to help Goodwin blend in and make us both look innocent. But I settle on a nod.

"Goodwin is lead on this one. Do as he says,_ understand_?" Ben raises a stoic eyebrow at me. "Yes sir." I respond softly, I have to follow his lead.

Ben takes a knee directly in front of me, putting himself on eye level with me. "Olivia. I expect you to be instrumental in the success of this mission. But you need to keep in mind the consequences of your failure." He threatens. So, basically, an 'do as I say, Or Else'. I swallow thickly and nod, adverting my eyes.

"Okay. Good. Well, good luck." Ben stands and turns away. I look up at him, confused. He hasn't told me any instructions about getting to the island. But he spins around in a flash of an eye and grabs me, then hauls me overboard. I barely have time to take in a deep breath before I hit the water. The water hits me hard and I fight my way back to the surface.


	3. Day 1, Part III

My arms and legs flail around wildly as I attempt to catch my breath. I'm completely submerged in water and I feel immured by it. I accidentally inhale a large mouthful of sea water and choke slightly as it burns my throat. I cough deeply, trying to rid myself of the burning sensation, as a wave crashes over my head, sending me back underwater. I have the sense not to breathe in as I struggle back to the surface, fighting the stinging water.

When I resurface, all traces of Ben and his boat are gone and Goodwin is several yards away, leaned over something. I try to swim towards Goodwin, or 'Dad' as I should say, but another tall wave sends me under the water. The force of the wave sends me spinning beneath the surface and I immediately loose my sense of direction. I am spun with such momentum that I try to scream for help, remembering I'm underwater just a second after I open my mouth-taking in a huge lungful-then slam it shut. I flail harder, panicking.

Adrenalin and fear have almost completely taken control by the time I feel a large hand grab me, hauling me through the water until I'm laying on my back on what feels like a flat sheet of scrap metal. I sputter and cough heavily, trying to rid my lungs of the venomous sea water. When I finally start to calm down, I feel a gentle hand grab mine. I look up to see Goodwin holding my hand. He smiles gently down at me. "You alright?" He asks. I don't trust myself to speak yet, so I just nod.

Goodwin turns around and lays on his stomach on the small raft. He uses his arm as a paddle and begins to inch us toward the island. I close my eyes as the waves lull me and the sun shines on my skin.

When I finally regain a steady breath, I roll onto my stomach and help Goodwin paddle towards the island. I just keep scooping my arm into through the water, then up and out, then front again.

My shoulder is exhausted and sore by the time we're close enough for Goodwin to slide off the metal and into the water. He guides the raft closer to the shower, and when we're up to his waist, he reaches for me. I takes me into his arms, fireman style, and I cling around his neck. He carries me to the sand. He gets a couple feet before he drops to his knees and we both flop on our backs into the sand, exhausted and happy to be back on land. I'm soaked and gritty and feel disgusting, but I accept it. I'm probably gonna be dirty for a while now.

"Hey!" A man's voice calls to us. Goodwin sits up, but I stay in the sand, too tired to move.

The man approaches us and I turn my head to see Goodwin and the man standing in front of each other.

"My name is Peter, that's my daughter Sophia." Goodwin-I mean, _Dad_, offers.

"Jack." The man smiles, focused, shaking hands with Dad, then sending a polite smile to me, which I return. "We have a camp just up the beach. You can go there and join up with everyone else." Jack instructs. Dad nods and turns to pick me up.

But Jack inquires, "You wouldn't happen to have any medical training, would you?" He asks, not really expecting a yes, like he's asked everyone he's come across, just in case.

"I do, actually." Dad lies seamlessly, "I am... Was an EMT back home."

"Perfect!" Jack raises his eyebrows, "whenever you get a chance, I'd really like your help with the injured."

"Of course." Dad agrees. Jack thanks him, telling us he'll see us soon-that he's off looking for more people on the beach-before running off as fast as he came.

Goodwin makes quick eye contact with me, conveying a 'here we go'.

We soon round the corner of the tree line and see mass chaos. There's smoke and fire and bodies everywhere. There's people wondering around, crying and screaming. Dad takes my hand and holds me close as we walk around the wreckage, towards the trees where it appears everyone that's able has congregated.

Dad spots a pregnant lady, who looks maybe early twenties, sitting against a tree. I guess he's assumed she's trustworthy. We approach her and the first thing she does is smile up at us. "Hi." He says shortly.

"Hi." The woman smiles up to us both, rubbing a hand absent-mind ly on her stomach.

"My name is Peter Johansson. This is my daughter Sophia." I smile shyly. The woman peaks around Dad to wave at me, which I smile at.

She then extends her hand to Dad. "I'm Claire, Claire Littleton." She's got a heavy Australian accent.

"I know this is a big favor to ask, Claire, but would you mind watching my daughter? Jack has asked me to help the wounded." Dad explains.

"Of course! Come on, and sit down, Sophia." She pats the spot next to her.

Dad hugs me, whispering a quick, "Remember, make note of the good." in my ear before jogging away, ready to get his hands dirty. I watch him as he runs towards the wreckage.

I look back to Claire, who reassuringly smiles up at me, and I sit where she indicated.

"Where we're you sitting, on the plane?" Claire asks to break the ice.

I panic internally, but keep the feeling confined to my stomach. "Uh, towards the front." I noticed the front part of the plane isn't on the beach, and neither is the entire back third, but think it might explain why I ended up so far away.

"Oh cool. I was sitting a couple seats it the back, a couple rows behind where the front broke off. I didn't see you when you boarded." She's just making conversation, but I feel it as an accusation. Maybe, somehow, she found out we're lying.

So I come up with a response quickly. "Yeah, me and my Dad were on standby and boarded last second." I tell her, surprised at how casual I'm coming off.

She laughs, even though it's not really funny, "You're pretty unlucky." I hear a pinch of pain in her voice, as though she hurts for me. I just send a 'I know' glance at her, and laugh a little bit at the 'unluckiness' as well.

We talk for a while, some about me-and I lie-and some about her. I ask about her baby, and if it's a boy or a girl. She says she doesn't know yet. But she let's me feel her stomach when it's kicking and I'm just relieved that her child is okay.

It's getting late in the afternoon when a chubby Hispanic man approaches the both of us, with something in his hands. "Hey little dude, I don't think I've seen you around yet." He says. I have to remind myself to keep calm, that that wasn't an accusation. It was just an acknowledgement that he hasn't met me yet.

"My name's Sophia." I give him a tight smile, which he returns.

"Hurley." He introduces.

He then remembers why he came over here and hands us both bagged sandwiches. My stomach growls, as if it senses the close proximity of food. Hurley walks away as we unwrap the sandwiches with a heavy "See ya, dude." Both Claire and I glance at each other before we slowly eat the sandwich, careful not to eat too fast as if trying to drag the meal out longer.

When we finish, which is sooner than I would've liked, Hurley walks towards us again with something else in his hands, this time. When he reaches us, he towers over me for a second before extending his hand. It takes me a beat to realize he's offering a floppy stuffed rabbit to me. For a second, I'm confused. Why would I want an old stuffed animal? But then I remember; he doesn't know how old I am. All Claire and Hurley and anybody else know about me is my physical appearance and their assumptions on that and the behavior I've displayed. Hurley must think I'm a lot younger than I am. I want to correct him, stand up for myself, but remember what Ben said earlier. The younger I look, the more innocent I'm assumed to be. I have to milk that opportunity.

I take the rabbit, cradling it in my arms like an actual baby. I inspect it carefully before looking up to Hurley, making sure I appear awestruck. "Thank you Hurley." I smile with joy. Hurley just nods, feeling satisfied, before dismissing himself and walking away.

Claire and I talk more until sunset. Jack instructs us to get closer to the fire. Someone had set up two seats from the plane in front of the fire that Claire and I sit in and lazily watch the flames of the fire flicker in the darkness.

* * *

_The flames dance around the clean fire pit, the heat licking my cheeks as I get too close. I pull my stick out of the fire, satisfied in the crispy black marshmallow on the other end. I blow it, cooling it, the promptly stick the entire marshmallow in my mouth._

_"Olive!" Juliet gasps at me._

_"Wha?" I turn around to her innocently, eyebrows raised. I wait a beat before I smile cheekily, the marshmallow making a second appearance. Juliet has no choice but to burst into laughter._

_She quickly pulls herself back though, restraining herself to a concealed smile in attempt to not encourage me. "Olive, I don't see _why_ you like to burn your marshmallows until they're completely on fire." Juliet's laugh breaks through, unrestricted, several times in her failing attempt to chastise me._

_"Oh come on, Jewels, this is our last night of freedom! We don't know if the mysterious place we're going will have marshmallows." I state matter-of-factly, turning back around to load my stick with another marshmallow._

_We sit around the small fire in our backyard. Juliet is sitting in a lawn chair and I'm sitting directly in front of her, leaning my back against her knees. I'm comfortable. But then again, I think I'd be comfortable almost anywhere with Juliet. She's my best friend, my protector; we're inseparable._

* * *

I must've dozed off because the next thing I remember is Goodwin setting me down on a sleeping bag in the trees, away from most the other people. It's really dark and there's a large array of stars across the sky, so I assume it's in the middle of the night.

"I'm about to meet him." He means Ethan, "Who do you have for The List?" Urgency and seriousness intensify his voice.

"Are they going to be okay, the people on the list? They won't get hurt, right?" I say sleepily, but still very much concerned. I don't want to have anything to do with someone getting hurt.

"They'll be fine." Goodwin dismisses quickly, "Names?"

"Claire Littleton," I say, hesitantly but factually, "Blonde, petit, pregnant."

He knows who I'm talking about, but I want to be clear. He nods in confirmation and allows me to close my eyes again. I am drifting back to sleep as I hear his footsteps get farther and farther.


	4. Day 2

"Soph, wake up." Someone shakes me gently. But I groan and roll over in the stand, groggy and still exhausted. "_Sophia_, it's time to wake up." The voice becomes more stern.

"Here, watch this;" a female voice whispers, "Hey, we found some food for breakfast." She calls to me.

I immediately sit up, turning around, and look up at Dad and a woman, young, with dark curls, that appears to have been just walking by. Both the woman and Dad smile at me, then each other.

Dad chuckles light-heartedly, "She's always been difficult in the morning, I shouldn't have expected being stranded on an island to change that. Thank you-?" He searches for her name.

"Kate." She supplies, "and don't worry about it, I was the same way." She glances at me and winks. I smile, I like her. She looks down and begins to walk away when she quickly turns around, grabs something from her bag, and tosses it toward me. I barely catch it-my reflexes dulled by drowsiness and soreness-but I do. When I look down at it in my hands, I discover myself holding a chocolate bar. I open my mouth to profusely thank her, but Kate is gone by the time I look up. Dad and I are only sitting there for a beat before we hear Jack gathering a crowd on the beach.

_There's always something going on with these people_.

Goodwin goes to the collection of the survivors, instructing me to stay here. So I shrug and happily eat half my chocolate bar; I know it won't last long in the heat, but I want to savor it as long as possible.

Goodwin returns several minutes later. He sits next to me in the sand. "What'd Jack want?" I ask.

Goodwin relays Jack's instructions, "He said to build tents. Him and a couple of others are going to go find the cockpit, but everyone else should stay here. We're going to set up a sort of shift-system. Everyone has to participate. I'll obviously be helping with some of the wounded. What are you good at?" He asks, needing to find me something to contribute with.

"I can hunt." I volunteer eagerly. It's something that Grandad taught me, ignoring Juliet's protests, but I never am allowed to back at the barracks.

"That will drawl too much attention." He denies. I see his point, we don't want people to start asking questions.

"Well I'm small, sign me up for helping look through the wreckage for stuff we can use." I realize that not only are these survivors struggling through, Goodwin and I also have to rough it for a while.

"What are Jack and the others going to the cockpit for?" I ask, my voice dropping quiet, looking around subtly.

"They're looking for a transceiver." Goodwin responds, whispering.

"Is that gonna cause a problem for us?" To our safety and our mission.

"It shouldn't." He answers confidently enough that I trust his opinion.

Goodwin must see the group heading out to leave for the cockpit, Jack and Kate and another man, because he pulls me close, hugging me. Once he's sure they've long passed, he gets close to my ear. "Tell Ethan when you see him about the transceiver." Goodwin whispers in my ear.

I'm confused. _Me_, talk to Ethan? Isn't that completely Goodwin's job. "_Me_?" Is all I say, my head tilted and eyebrow furrowed.

"You'll understand soon. But I've gotta go check on everybody. Go out and meet some of the passengers. Be careful and remember." He orders dismissively, hugging me, though I suppose more for the cover than actual affection.

"Okay, bye." I wave as he leaves.

I sit in the sand for several minutes before my stomach violently clinches. I suppose that chocolate bar won't sustain me. So I stand up, not even bothering to attempt to brush all the sand and dirt off me, and start my search for something to eat.

I wander towards the plane. It's so unfamiliar; I just hope that no one can sense it. This mission has my life on the line.

"It's pretty crazy, right?" Says a voice behind me. I look over my shoulder to see a boy, just younger than my supposed age. I solemnly nod.

"It's a wonder any of us survived." I say. The boy nods in response. We sulk in the minute before he changes the pace.

"My name is Walt." The boy introduces himself, significantly more upbeat.

"I'm Sophia." I smile back.

"I didn't know there was another kid here." He means that was on the plane and lived.

"Me neither." I say. We both smile at each other, I guess somewhat happy that there's another for us to be friends with. My heart tightens when I remember that I'll have to betray him. He must see the flash of pain on my face because he is quick to say something.

"I wanna show you something." He says. I nod, agreeing to come with him. He takes my hand, his dark skin contrasting with my extreme paleness, and yanks me toward the tree line. I remind him of my lack of shoes, but he says that I won't need them where we are going. My feet are tough, so I walk fairly cautious through the woods, struggling to keep up with Walt as he drags me along.

* * *

_"Olive, come on!" Juliet calls behind her as she runs ahead, laughing._

_"I'm coming!" I eagerly shout in return. My stubby legs aren't moving fast enough, not as fast as I would like them to, at least. Juliet realizes this and slows down, smirking at me. She finally grabs my hand and continues running, turning around to laugh with me, her curly hair blowing wildly around her face._

_Her grip is firm and protective. I feel like she will never let go; I don't want her to let go._

* * *

_We lay on our backs in the middle of a grassy field, the sun soaking to our bones through our white skin._

_It takes me several minutes of silence to gather up the courage to speak. I take a deep breath. "Juliet?" I call her by her full name, which notifies her that I'm serious. She sits up, ready to listen. "When is Rachel coming home? She didn't look good when we last saw her."_

_I can visibly see Juliet restrain herself from correcting 'good' to 'well', but doesn't, which notifies me how serious she is. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." She swallows thickly and takes a deep breath._

_"Rachel isn't coming home." She says._

_But my five-year-old mind doesn't comprehend. "What are you talking about? Mom said she could come home whenever she feels better." I say, confused and not understanding._

_"She's not going to feel better, Olive." Juliet deadpans._

_I feel sad from her tone, but I still don't get it. It only aggravates me how she seems to not want her to get better._

_"She's going to die, Olivia." Juliet cries. Though her voice conveys frustration, I know it's not toward me. Juliet grabs me and pulls me into her arms. Her body is wracked with sobs as she holds me and I almost immediately am crying too. We cry together, fiercely holding each other._

_I remember when our pet turtle died last spring; I cried for a week when I realized he wasn't coming back. I remember Juliet telling me that he's gone to a better place now._

_"Rach is goin' to heaven?" I ask, making a connection, "Like Pistachio the turtle?" I look up to her with big eyes._

_She looks down at me with a sad expression, then cracks a smile. She emits a strangled chuckle, her throat sore from crying and her nose stopped up, and uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose and then her fingers to clean her face._

_"Yes, like Pistachio." She uses her shirt to wipe my face and holds me in her lap. "But don't you worry, Olive, everything will be okay. I'm here to make sure nothing ever happens to you."_

* * *

"Sophia, we're here." Walt notions ahead of us.

I look past him to see a small lagoon, waterfall included. Blue and yellow flowers and tall trees and extensive growth, as well as a fresh and exotic aura, surround the paradise. Rocks line three of the sides, the fourth narrowing into a small creek. The area smells of dirt, fresh water, and a sense of freedom.

"Like it?" Walk looks to me, smugly smiling in success. I can't even find words, so I look back to him and nod gratefully.

My awe rapidly morphs into ambition. I side glance to Walt, for only a second, and take off running. I dash straight for the water and push off of the edge of the rocks. I point my body in preparation for a dive and glide smoothly into the water. I resurface a second later, laughing, and wave to Walt to join me. He smiles excitedly and rips off his shirt and shoes and cannon-balls off the cliff into the water.

Walt and I spin the next couple hours swimming in the river. We sit under the waterfall. We crawl onto the flat rocks and lay in the sun. I split the last half of my chocolate bar with him. We splash each other and laugh in the cool, refreshing water. We talk a lot, too, about mostly real things, with the exception of some of my lies, of course. I feel relaxed and free, though I still miss my sister.

"There you are, Sophia!" A familiar voice calls from the top of the rocks. Honestly, I feel slightly disappointed that our little piece of paradise has been penetrated. I look up to see Kate standing there, and I cheer up a little.

"Hey Kate!" I wave back.

"Your dad is looking for you. Good thing there's only one barefoot little girl here, or you would have been harder to find." Kate smiles down at me. I mentally scold myself to find some shoes, though I honestly don't think it will affect her ability to track me.

"Okay." I call back, rising from the flat rock, my clothes heavy from water weighing me down slightly. I slowly but surely tiptoe up a slim path up the rocks to reach Kate. When I reach her, it's obvious she's to take me back to my dad, so I turn back to Walt and poke my head back over the ledge. "Bye Walt. See ya soon." Then I catch up with Kate.

"Walt took you here? He must like you." She teases smirking, playfully elbowing my arm.

I don't know how to respond, so I just scrunch my face-causing Kate to laugh-and keep walking beside her toward the beach.

"I'm sorry to have been such a bother. I didn't realize people would come looking for me." I admit, looking down at me feet.

"You're not a bother. Your dad was just wondering where you were and I volunteered. I asked around and heard you left with Walt, coming this way. I tracked your footprints down to the river." She explains, then adds, "Actually, this is where I landed from the crash."

"Really? Way out here?" I ask incredulously. Kate nods, confirming.

"Yep, I was here when I heard-"

But Kate is abruptly, and violently, interrupted.


	5. Day 2, Part II

A large tree limb comes out of the forest and hits Kate across the face, knocking her out immediately.

"Kate!" I shout, surprised. Suddenly, another hand reaches out from the jungle and pulls me back into the brush. I gasp as I see Ethan standing in front of me, a huge machine gun in my hand.

"Go along with it. She needs to witness the interaction." Ethan whispers fiercely. He grabs my arm, ready to drag me back out to Kate when I quickly stop him.

"Goodwin needed me to tell you that they have a transceiver. They got it from the cockpit." I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I relay it authoritatively; with authority that I do not possess. A fast nod is all I get in response before being yanked back through the brush.

Ethan's hand is over my mouth, his other arm around my chest to subdue me. I struggle, trying to free myself, and Ethan fights harder. "Tell me what I want to know." He growls. I make a show of shaking my head. "Tell me you stupid, little girl." He yells, having to work to maintain the upper hand.

I manage to slip out of his grip, but only get a stride away before I'm yanked back against him. "I have to hit you." He seethes under his breath, emotionless, teeth clinched. I don't have enough time to prepare myself before a fist makes contact with my face. I cry out and stumble back a couple steps in shock.

"Tell me!" He shouts, "Tell me about your people." I'm still more-than-slightly stunned. Ethan grabs me and slaps me across the cheek, sending me tumbling in a large bush several feet away. It hurts pretty badly.

I happen to glance at Kate. Her eyes are disoriented and confused, she's just now waking up and looking around.

"Stay away from her." Kate stands on wobbly feet. Seemingly panicked, Ethan plucks me from the ground and throws me into Kate. I crash into her and by the time we recover, he's long gone, leaving both of us lying in the dirt and feeling awful.

"Are you okay?" Is the first thing she says to me after we are sure he's left. I nod, unsure. I think a split lip and a black eye is the extent of my damage, while Kate has a nasty gash on her forehead that's bleeding pretty heavily. But she doesn't take notice. "Can you walk?" She asks, looking straight into my eyes for an honest answer. I nod again.

Kate stands up first, then helps me to get on my feet. I maintain my balance, and feel confident in myself, until I go to take my first step. My knees lock and I crash GRACEFULLY into Kate. She easily catches me, a determined look on her face, and supports me. I sigh, relinquishing control, and allow Kate to escort me back to camp, her arm below my shoulders.

We finally stumble into camp several minutes later and I still feel disoriented. As soon as Kate drags our feet on the sand, she takes in a big breath. "PETER! JACK!" Her voice carries across camp.

Jack, who was drinking a bottle of water and talking to an Arabic man under a tree, freezes as he hears his name then immediately breaks into a sprint. Dad pokes his head out of a flimsy shelter several seconds later. He first steps out from under the tarps and cautiously walks a few feet forward, then-apparently seeing me-runs directly to me. I allow myself to be taken from Kate and into Jack's arms, then immediately into Dad's arms. I go limp, though making sure they know I'm awake, in Dad's arms as he holds me in the sand lovingly.

"What happened?" He looks over me, then to Kate and Jack for answers.

"I found Sophia in a river down the forest, about ten minutes away. She had been there all day with Walt. We were a little less than halfway back when a tree branch came out from nowhere and I guess I was out of it because when I came to, there was this man that kept saying 'tell me what I want to know.'" Kate looks at me interrogatively, but continues to the end of the recap, "I scared him away and he left."

Jack and Dad seem to process the information, brows furrowed, before Jack has the sense to speak. "What did they want?" He asks urgently.

But I'm caught off guard. I panic slightly until I create something that would actually make sense. "He wanted information. He wanted to know who was on the plane, who has what particular skill set, who's valuable and useful." Good Job Olivia, that actually kinda made sense.

"What would they gain from that?" Jack groans frustratedly, more to Kate than me. I don't think he really expects me to answer. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a couple large strides away.

Jack completes a quick volt-face motivated by the need for more information. "And why you?" Jack asks himself aloud, "Besides Claire, you're the most vulnerable on the plane." He cogitates on the significance, but doesn't speak it aloud.

"Let's lay you down, Sophia, and let you rest." Dad takes in my best interest. I'm starting to feel pain from the hits. Aw heck, Juliet's gonna flip if she finds out.

* * *

_"Please, Juliet, take a seat." Ben sits behind his desk, motioning to the open seat infront of him and beside me._

_"Olivia!" Juliet, still in her lab coat, storms into the office. I shrink further into the chair._

_But Juliet's having none of it. She rushes towards me then leans towards my face. She places a hand under my chin and turns my face so she can get a full view of my eye. Juliet squats in front of my legs, looking up at me, and moves her hand from my chin to grab my hand._

_"You've got a pretty nasty black eye there, Olive." Juliet states sadly._

_When I don't respond, she stands and turns angrily to Ben. "What are you doing to punish that boy? I can't believe you let that _older boy_ hit my little sister, Ben." Juliet sounds simultaneously angry and annoyed._

_"I didn't _let_ Jonathan do anything." Ben attempts at a defense, but he struggles seeming big with Juliet around._

_"What are you doing to punish him?" She asks sternly, running a soft hand over my hair._

_"We called his parents from the lab and the kitchen and sent him home." Ben informs._

_"You _SENT HIM HOME_?" Juliet repeats, exasperated, "What about Olivia? She's got a black eye because _YOU_ failed to protect her. How would you feel if it had been Alex?"_

_"Juliet, may I remind you that Iii am in charge and I make the decisions." Ben restates his authority loudly._

_"Ben-" Juliet sighs, continuously running her hand through my hair._

_"You know that I am doing my best to look out for you, Juliet, but when your sister goes around fighting, there's only so much I can do!" Ben exaggeratedly snaps._

_"I didn't _fight_ anybody!" I object._

_"_HE_ punched _HER_." Juliet corrects, intense._

_"She was antagonistic and stubborn. Must run in the family." Ben suggests, monotone._

_Juliet grabs my hand and we start out the door when Ben grabs her arm, stopping us both._

_"Juliet, I know you're upset. But I'm trying to protect you. And Olivia. I am doing my best for you." Ben says, demandingly._

_Juliet stares at him for a moment before she rips her arm from his grip and we make a hasty exit back to our recently new house._

* * *

"Sophia?" Jack sits me down on a counter-which is really part of the plane metal-with a tarp roof over it that I think is becoming some sort of kitchen. I look straight to Jack so he knows he has my full attention.

"I just wanted to check you out and make sure you are alright. Is that okay with you?" Jack patronizes, but it's unintentional, so I don't take too much mind into it. I nod shyly.

"When is your birthday?" He asks, apparently checking my memory. But I forget I'm three years younger than usual. Jack's eyes cloud with worry as I hesitate, but I figure the numbers and hurriedly answer.

"August 24th, 1992." I blurt. Jack looks relieved, but skeptical still.

"Do you know what day it is?" Jack inquires.

"September something." I say. I probably wouldn't know what day it is back in the barracks either.

"What day?" He insists.

I wrack my mind and remember seeing the date on the board yesterday. "The plane crashed yesterday, which was the 22nd. So today is the 23rd."

Jack seems satisfied with my memory, but asks a couple more questions to make sure, inspecting my face where I was hit. I answer each confidently.

"Why were you in Sydney?"

"To visit family friends."

"Mom's name?"

"Rachel." I answer swiftly; the only reason I was able to remember was because of my sister.

"What's your last name?"

"Bur-Johansson." My eyes grow wide as I correct myself. I inwardly cringe, but hide my frustration in myself with a confused expression. Jack looks over my face for a second, but doesn't mention it.

He stands. "Okay, Sophia. I'mma give you the all clear. Just get plenty of rest, alright?" I nod and he walks out towards Goodwin and Kate. I take the opportunity to lay down on the counter, hanging my feet off the side, and let myself fall asleep.


	6. Day 3 and Day 4

I wake up early the next morning feeling groggy and very hungry. I sit up in the sand and am confused when I don't feel the sun beating down on me. I look around and see a shoddy shelter shading me, consisting of a bamboo frame and a roof and two walls of an old tarp and big leaves. Rising from my spot in the sand, I feel momentarily dizzy and am caught from falling by a convenient hand.

I regain my balance and violently turn to be surprised by Jack being the one supporting me. The awkward moment passes and Jack sets me on my feet again. "I was just coming to check on you." Jack places his hands on his hips, seemingly concerned, as he looks down at me, "You were pretty out of it yesterday." I nod. "Do you remember any of it?"

"Yes," I nod again, "I remember being at the river with Walt. Then Kate coming to get me. It's really fuzzy after that; a man came out of the woods yelling at me. He hit Kate then me. But Kate got us out and brought us back here. I remember you asking me a lot of questions, and nothing really after that." I recount.

"You fell asleep." Jack provides. "I think you are alright," he deems, "Just really shaken up. Your memory loss and confusion is probably due to the slight traumatic shock. You'll be okay, Sophia." He smiles down at me.

"Thank you, doctor." I smile slyly, earning a chuckle from Jack.

I see a shadow on one of the walls of the hut, causing my heart to increase in fear, only to see Kate turn the corner and slip in the shelter. Kate crosses her arms, "Hey." She smiles.

"Well," Jack drawls attention to himself, "just get lots of rest, Sophia, and_ try_ to keep out of trouble."

"Thanks Jack!" I call as he exits, him throwing a wave over his shoulder.

I sit back down and Kate follows. She searches my eyes for several minutes before she speaks, "How are you feeling?"

"Jack says I'll be alright." I relay.

Kate smirks, calling me out, "That wasn't the question."

I shyly grin and sigh, giving in to Kate. "I feel weird," I admit, "I don't know, out of it, I guess. But I'll live."

We both sit quiet for a beat before Kate speaks again, "Why did he pick you? And why would he want to know about us?" She rhetorically asks, frustrated, like it's been bothering her.

"I don't know what he would want with information about us, but I guess he thought I would be easy. Good thing you were there." I look to her, conveying my gratitude.

She nods, "Of course." Is all she says.

"Kate!" A man with a southern drawl and longer blonde hair calls from the beach. Startle flashes in Kate's eyes and she abruptly stands.

"Oh yeah." She gasps, remembering, and slides another chocolate bar from her pocket. She tosses it to me and I catch it.

"Where do you keep getting these?" I gape, incredulously.

"Sawyer." She smirks, though I don't know who that is. She then hurries off toward the man on the beach, reminding me to take it easy.

I eat half the chocolate bar, then wrap the wrapper around and set it beside me. Heeding both Jack and Kate's advice, I lay back down on the sand and fall back asleep.

* * *

It's mid-day when I wake again. This time, there's a wool blanket over me. And instead of feeling the familiar sand, I feel a hard piece of metal beneath me. Must be part of the plane. I push the blanket off me and sit up on the makeshift bed, my feet hanging over the side. My stomach rumbles and it ends up convincing me to get up.

I wander out of my tent to see Walt sitting at the fire-that hasn't been let extinguish since I got here-and I walk over to him and sit next to him on the log bench. "Hey." I simply greet. He hands me an apple, which I begin to eat.

"How ya feeling?" Walt inquires.

"Better." Is my response, between bites.

"Good." He comments.

It's warm on the island, always has been, but the fire has a comforting heat. I allow myself to be relaxed by it for several minutes, finishing the fruit then throwing it into woods.

"Wanna go back to the river?" I ask eagerly.

"I don't think anyone thinks that's a good idea, Sophia." Walt says seriously.

I laugh, lightening the mood, "Yeah, you're probably right."

We both sit next to the fire, disappointed, until Walt blurts, "I think I have an idea." I agree and follow him through the camp.

We soon arrive at a hut farther away than most the other yyshelters in the woods. Walt walks right in and I follow him, slightly shy. "Hey John." Walk greets.

A bald man in cargo pants and a brown shirt turns around from sharpening a wooden spear with a knife. "Hello Walt. Bring a friend?" The man resumes carving at the wood.

"Yep." Walt nudges me with my elbow, reassuring me.

I clear my throat, "My name is Sophia." I attempt to sound confident, and succeed fairly well.

John turns around to look at me, having a genuinely surprised expression, and stops carving. He stands and towers over me, with a chilling smile on his face. "Nice to meet you Sophia, my name is John Locke." He shakes my hand, which I cautiously return. Walt then asks him to teach me Backgammon and I spend the next several hours learning how to play the game's rules and strategy with Walt.

"You're pretty good at this." John Locke compliments, "You must be a fast learner." I smile and thank him, continuing to pick up the game.

It's starting to get dark when I hear Dad calling for me. "Thanks for teaching my how to play, Mr. Locke. Me and Walt will surely be glad to have something to do." I thank him.

"No problem." John Locke nods. I say goodbye to Walt then scamper off back to the hut to Goodwin.

"I found dinner. It's pork." He offers me a leaf of meat. I take it and sit against the tree outside of our shelter. Goodwin sits down beside me.

"Do you have any more names?" Goodwin asks me in a hushed tone.

"Walt. But I'm still checking; I haven't decided about Kate or Jack yet." I say, eating the meat.

Goodwin huffs, "That Kate girl has a dark past."

I shrug. "She seems alright to me." I mumble.

"Anyone else you've been looking into?" Goodwin asks.

"I've only met Walt, Kate, Jack, Claire, Hurley, and John Locke." I admit.

His ears perk up. "John Locke? What do you think about him?" Goodwin seems very interested.

I shrug again. "I don't know yet. I have a bad feeling about him though." I tell him, shifting in discomfort.

Goodwin takes mental note, nodding, and we continue to eat in silence. But something's bugging me. "What's going to happen to them?" I inquire quietly, "To the names we give to Jacob."

"Stop asking questions, _Sophia_." Goodwin _subtly_ informs me to mind my own business.

But I'm persistent, "They're not going to get hurt, right?"

Goodwin suddenly grabs my wrist, grabbing my attention and freezing my body. "Just keep your mouth shut and keep your mind on your job." He seethes. Only after I nod, accepting, does he get out of my face and releases my wrist. We finish the meal in silence.

After dinner, Goodwin goes to stick his nose in whatever the power duo-Kate and Jack-are up to, leaving me to my own devices. Stomach finally full, I go to the fire and sit down and am soon joined by Claire. We sit, warmed by the fire, and watch the stars as we talk. Comfortable and sleepy, I drift into sleep.

* * *

I wake up the next morning to find myself back in my tent. I roll my eyes at the idea of Goodwin making a big deal out of sweetly carrying me to my bed and tucking me in with the blanket and the stuffed rabbit Hurley gave me for effect. I throw the blanket off of me and go off to search for Walt. I find him very soon and he shares some of his fruit that his dad gave him, and I contribute with the rest of my chocolate.

Once we finish eating, we decide it still be best to stay close around camp; we don't know what's in those woods. So we look for Walt's dog Vincent for a while on the edge of the woods, always within eyesight of another person from camp, as warned. We get tired and bored about mid-day and Walt let's us give up.

Hurley conveniently comes around with sandwiches for us, which we swiftly eat and drink some water. Because we are so endlessly bored, Walt and I decide to play of tag. I loose the game of rock-paper-sissors and I have to be it first. But I'm slightly taller than Walt, so I catch him soon.

Walt chases me down the beach and towards the shore. We laugh as I run into the water, slowing and splashing, and barely swerve away from his reach. I lead us out from the water and up the sand and around the corner when I come face-to-face with the same man with the long blonde hair that called Kate yesterday.

I stop suddenly, only inches away from the tall man, as he snarls down at me, annoyed. Walt stops behind me, frozen as well. My mouth is dry as I gape up at him, too alarmed to apologize.

"Where do you think you're goin', _Princess_?" The man asks sarcastically.

I gulp as I step back and say the only thing that I can figure to make sense, "I'm Sophia." I mentally cringe on how stupid it sounds after I say it.

The man glares down at me for only a second before he relaxes and sighs, glancing over his shoulder and rubbing his chin as the other hand rests on his hip, apparently giving up trying to scare me off. "Sawyer." He nods.

I animate immediately. "You're the one with the chocolate bars." I smile.

"Dammit freckles." Sawyer mumbles under his breath before sighing again. "I guess that's me." He sends me an extremely sarcastic smile.

"Well thank you." I look at my hands.

"Don't get used to it." The man grumbles as he pushes my shoulder as he walks past me. But it didn't bother me. I just shrug at Walt when the man is gone and we continue playing tag down the beach.

When we get tired, Walt and I revisit John Locke and play backgammon and I'm actually starting to get pretty good.

A while later, as the sun starts to set, Walt and I are called to dinner. The rest of the main survivors that I've met so far sit in a circle around the campfire, where Walt and I join in. Clair and a stubby blonde man and Hurley and Walt's dad and Sawyer and Kate and Jack and Dad and Walt and I sit around the fire, eating the fish and fruit found today. Jack and Kate spend several minutes whispering to each other; something is definitely up. But it must not be crucial enough for Jack to inform the entire camp, so I find relief in that. Claire and I watch the stars by the camp fire again, talking, until I fall asleep again.


	7. Day 5

My eyes flutter open, taking several moments to adjust to the bright light of morning. I sit up, running a hand through my greasy hair.

I'm glad I'm going to be leaving in a couple days. Having to struggle along the other survivors when I know there's warm showers on the next island is strenuous. I want to take a shower; I want to wash myself. I decide that I'd have to wash up eventually, if I was one of the survivors, so my mind is made to go back to the river. I would like to find another pair of clothes too; I'm desperate enough for clean clothes to wear someone else's. I feel dirty lying to all these people, maybe being physically clean will make me feel better.

I quickly rise to my feet, now looking forward to feeling clean, and contently exit the tent. Walt is out near the fire again, and when I reach him, he's ready with some more fruit. I graciously take it and eat my breakfast on the log next to Walt.

"So what do you wanna do today?" Walt asks excitedly.

"I wanna take a bath." I tell him, taking a bite of fruit. I watch Walt as he almost energetically agreed to come with me, until he realizes that would include me removing my clothes. He agrees to meet up with me later this afternoon.

I rise from my seat on the log, bidding a goodbye to Walt, and head towards the plane wreckage. I carefully tiptoe through the destruction towards suitcases. I find that most of them have been raided already, but I'm not looking for medicine or food or anything. Who else would be looking for my size of clothing, anyway? I search for close to twenty minutes before I am successful.

In a bright green suitcase, I find clothes and shoes my size. I sigh in relief as I accomplished my goal, but my stomach clinches with the thought of whoever's this was is dead now. It sends a chill through my spine, but I push the thought away and close the suitcase back. I carry the luggage, which is actually fairly light, back under my tarp and set it down. I reopen the zipper and search until I find a pair of nice white shorts and a light blue tank top. I also conveniently uncover a pair of orange tennis shoes and some socks, externally gasping in surprising excitement over the discovery.

After hurriedly running to the oasis, I strip myself of the dirty clothes-underwear and all-and slip into the rejuvenating river. I use my hands to scrub myself of the seemingly permanent dirt, with little avail. I go under the water to scrub my hair, which cleans it some.

"You'll probably need this." I spin in the water suddenly to see a girl, maybe 20 or so, with one hand holding a bar of soap and the other firmly planted on her hip. She sounds annoyed, like she didn't really want to offer me her soap, but did for some unknown reason. The girl sets the soap gingerly on a rock close to the river and wonders back into the forest.

Suddenly coming to my senses, I attempt to call out to her, "Thank you!" I swim over to where she left the soap and scrub myself down with it, making sure to use it thoroughly-as I don't know when I'll get my next bath in a couple days-but efficiently to not waste it. I'm finished within ten minutes and pulling myself out of the lagoon towards my clothes. I slip into my own underwear, after scrubbing them with the soap and water, then into the new clothes. Feeling refreshed, though still wet, I lay out on the rocks until my hair and clothes are sun baked and dried.

I walk back leisurely to the camp, new shoes ties around my feet, soap and the old clothes in hand. I have become a lot more tan during my days with the survivors so far, was well as the accompanying authentic sunburn, that underscore my light freckles along my nose. My hair has became an almost untamable mane and more sun kissed strawberry blonde. There seems to be an everlasting dirt stain on my feet and ankles, and several cuts and bruises scattered across my body. Juliet would laugh at the wild sight of me.

* * *

_I close the door behind me, slow in attempt to be quieter. I manage to close it silently before I turn around._

_I am met with Juliet's piecing blue eyes peering at me above her reading glasses. She had apparently been studying on the couch, reading one of her doctor books. I didn't know she was gonna be there._

_We stand there, staring at each other, my mouth agape. The air is heavy; I'm not sure how she'll react, she could easily chastise me. Juliet hardly ever gets angry with me-frustrated sometimes-but never true anger. Her faces morphs from stern, into a failing attempt to keep a smile from her face. My face breaks a smile and we are soon both laughing. Juliet stands from the couch and approaches me, as we both continue to chuckle at the situation._

_She touches both hands to to the side of my arms, looking down at me with love in her eyes, the way she looks at me everyday. Her face contorts in humor as she picks a ratty piece of hair and tucks it behind my ear._

_"What happened?" She laughs, not covering her mouth like she does when she smiles around other people._

_"Molly and I were in the woods and I fell into the mud." I say, feigning a pitiful look. The mud clings to my clothes and covers almost every surface of my body, save for some spots on my face. Every part of me is brown and heavy and completely disgusting._

_"_Oh please_," Juliet's lip curls upward, "I just feel sorry for the mud, considering you brought half of it home with you." She wipes at the mud from my cheek and shoes me on her fingers as evidence._

_"It looked like it needed a home." I push out my bottom lip, a deceitfully innocent look in my eyes._

_Juliet scoffs, not being persuaded. She's raised me for the past four years, she is not fooled by my lost-puppy face. "Get to the bath, straight away, Livvie-Love." She uses one hand to turn me, and the other to playfully swat me on the bottom, pushing me off towards the bathroom._

_I circle back to place my dirty hands on her forearm, causing her to noncommittally laugh a "oh, oh no, Olive.", and peck her cheek facetiously, leaving behind a muddy trail. She gasps, playfully vowing to get me back, before I turn and scamper off to the bathroom before Juliet can reach me._

_"It's on, Olive!" Juliet promises from outside the door as I just send a laugh in response. Little did I know that I had started an epic prank battle that day, but all in love and fun._

* * *

I reach camp feeling a whole lot better than when I left. I had brushed through my hair with my fingers as best I could then braided it in a side braid thrown over my left shoulder. I feel actually civilized since I first arrived on this island.

I find Walt and we decide to walk to the rocks down the beach some. We hop along the rough rocks, barefoot, and look for crabs like my Grandad taught me. But soon the blonde girl that gave me the soap, along with the man I had seen around Claire, approach the rocks-forcing me and Walt to go find something else to do. On our way to the other side of camp and towards the woods, we are stopped by an older black lady. She has a kind smile.

"Don't go in the woods, kids. John Locke and Kate and Michael are hunting boat in there. It's not safe." The woman warns. She looks the both of us over. My shorts are soaking wet and sand covers most if my legs. Stands of hair have come out of my braid, giving me a crazed appearance. I am sunburned and dirty, but a smile is across my face. Walt doesn't look that much better than I.

"You look like street urchins, running around wild." The woman comments, chastising, "Why don't you two sit down and let me read you a story so you can rest." We smile widely and eagerly. She stands and motions us to follow her. We wait outside a tent as the woman goes in and comes out a minute later. We follow her to a shaded spot where she lays down a blanket for us. She sits down against a tree and Walt and I lay down on our stomachs, ready to listen.

She tells us her name is Rose and she was on the plane with her husband. She hasn't found him yet, but insists he's alive. Walt and I don't question her much.

Rose reads us from Peter Pan, ironic as it is. Rose tells us about Peter Pan and Wendy and the lost boys and Hook. The tale entrances Walt and I as we envision the epic pirate battles and elegant mermaids and tribal Indians. I remember Rachel used to read me this story.

* * *

_"'Wendy, wouldn't you be our mother?'" Rachel reads in a bad British accent, causing a three year old me to giggle._

_Rachel drops her jaw in fabricated insult and looks down to me. "You have a problem with my reading, kid?" Rachel tries to intimidate me._

_"You read the lost boy voice funny, Rass." I couldn't yet say her name correctly. I look up to Juliet, over my opposite shoulder, who gives me a similar, jaw dropped but smiling, expression._

_"Well why don't you do it?" Rachel scoffs playfully, then turns to pretend begging, "Read us the story, Livvie-love."_

_I scrunch up my face in playful mischief. "I _can't_." I state, narrowing my eyes as if I were suspicious, mainly to hide the smile behind it._

_"Well you better learn fast!" Rachel and Juliet both dive simultaneously to my small stomach and tickle me, sending my flailing and laughing controllably._

_Until the door flies open. By the time the door slams against the wall behind it, the three of us are frozen still on the bed. I have ended on Juliet's lap and she wraps her arms around me, holding me tight against her, and Rachel slides protectively in front of both me and Juliet._

_"I told you three to come in here and be quiet." The man states dryly, "But you have disobeyed." He starts to stomp heavily towards the bed. He pushes Rachel away and onto the floor in one easy swoop. He heads for Juliet and I and the man reaches for me. He yanks me from her arms-he's too big for it to be a real fight-but he slaps her across the face to keep her down anyway._

_The man sets me on my chubby legs in front of the bed. "You disobeyed me, _little girl_. You know what happens to bad little girls." He towers above me, menacing._

_"Father, please don't." Tears already pool up in my eyes, but it's too late to protest. Father grabs one of my arms with one hand and raises the other above me. Before I could even think, the fist slams into my face. I would've fallen if he hadn't so _kindly_ been holding me. My cheek hurts really bad and I want to grab for it, but he raises his hand again._

_I close my eyes in anticipation of this hit, but before it lands, Father and I are being ripped away from each other. I try to look to see how Rachel is holding up against Father, but Juliet keeps my attention on her. "Olive," her tone is urgent and serious. I listen. "I need you to be Wendy right now, can you do that?" She asks. I nod. "Well Captain Hook is coming to look for Wendy. I need you to go hide from him." Juliet orders. I nod, but she continues. "Don't stop and don't leave until I call to you." I nod again and take off running to the door, and also to Rachel and Father fighting. Or really, Father beating Rachel._

_I run past them, daring a glance to see Juliet attempt to insert herself in the middle of a punch by Father, seemingly intended for Rachel but no doubt regretful. I run down the hallway and into the closet at the end of the hallway. My chubby hands slowly and jittery open the door and I close it behind me. I feel for the air duct vent and pull off the screen, then slide in, enclosing myself._

_I breathe heavy, afraid out of my mind. I hear shouts from Father and Rachel and Juliet, that abruptly die out several minutes later. Silence consumes the upper floor of the house before hear light footsteps come closer from down the hallway._

_"Livvie-love?" Juliet's mellifluous voice calls out to me gingerly. I take that as my cue to bust out of my hiding space and into her comforting eyes. I notice she has a split lip and a bruise near her eyebrow that must look similar to the one forming on my cheek. She doesn't say anything but I attach myself to her hip and bury my face in her neck and hair, never wanting her to let me go._

_I shiver at the memory. That was the first and only time Father had hit me. Rachel wasn't so lucky though. We went to the hospital several days later-the day after my fourth birthday-after Rachel had felt nauseous and really sick. They did an X-Ray to find a broken rib and did further examination. When asked, we told them we had gotten into a car accident. They told us they had found stage four cancer in Rachel's lungs. She lived for a year after that and died on my fifth birthday._

* * *

But I push the memories away, forcing them out of my mind. Rose stops reading just after we discovered Wendy is leaving Neverland. Walt and I look up at her questionably. She just points knowingly behind us and we both look to see a parade of people entering camp, Walt's dad leading it with an obviously hurt ankle and leaning on Kate. Walt and I both rush to the scene, along with the other people in the camp, just in time to see John Locke and Dad carrying a huge boar on a stick.

Everyone decides that we'll begin preparing and cooking the boar now, but will eat it when it ready later tonight for dinner. Sounds like a good plan to me. Dad and I sit on the beach together eating fruit he had stashed while in the forest. We chat some, but not a whole lot. I tell him about Rose and how she was reading us Peter Pan, neglecting the vivid details of it's significance to me. I also tell him of the soap I had gotten from the young blonde lady that was so nice. He listens, though it's not much of a conversation. We finish eating quickly and we both retreat to different directions of the beach.

I soon meet Walt and we decide to go on a walk and see further down the beach, as it's too hot to be running around in this intense island humidity and heat. We have walked almost to the edge of camp when an Arab man-the one I saw Jack talking with the other day-approaches us; well, more specifically, me.

"Where has your father been all day?" The man demands, not even bothering with formalities or introductions.

"Uh," I hesitate, "Out hunting with John Locke, I think. They caught a boar earlier." I supply.

The man takes an extremely large step towards me and gets in my face. He looks suspiciously in my eyes and leaves suddenly, leaving Walt and I confused by the whole reaction. What just happened? Walt shrugs, and I follow suit, and we continue our way down the beach.

We arrive back after nightfall, just in time-it seems-for boar. We are fed then immediately fall asleep and are both returned to our appropriate tents, fast asleep.

**AN: Hey guys! Thanks for bearing with me through this story, it should really start to pick up soon. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Just wanted to acknowledge that not all of what happens to the story will be according to the show; I had to move around some events and details to get what I wanted. Let me know if y'all have any questions/comments/concerns and I'll see to those!**

**Enjoy your Lost Day (4/8/15)**


	8. Day 6

Dirt stinging my skin is what wakes me. It's dark out and I'm surprised to see I'm not under my shelter. I go to dust myself off and discover my hands are tied around the tree I'm sitting against, which what feels like rope. I panic, looking around and not knowing where I am. There's tall grass around me so I can see much.

Except for the man looming over me. It's the man from earlier, the one who asked me about Goodwin. I don't say anything, just gape up at him. I struggle against the manacles, tugging at the rope hoping that it would give. But it doesn't.

"What do you want?" I cower away from him innocently, wishing I could sink into the tree.

"You know exactly what I want." He seethes, looking down his nose at me, and he lowers himself to get in my face.

A hand grabs the man and pulls him back, revealing Jack. "Take it easy, Sayid." Jack warns. Sayid storms off angrily into the grass.

"What happened?" I ask, groggy from sleep.

Jack sighs as he sits down in front of me, his legs bent and his arms on his elbows. A hand pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. He takes his time before he looks back up to me, staring at me for several seconds, before he's ready to talk.

"Sayid has seen your father leave the camp every night and go into the woods, then leave a short time later. Every night. At the same time. How can you explain that?" Jack presents the facts.

I decide on playing stupid. "Maybe he has to use the bathroom?" I guess, shrugging.

"This isn't a game." Jack ends me an eyebrow-raised, warning look. I advert my gaze.

I look to my lap until a question comes to mind and I lift my head. "Where is my father?" I inquire.

"You're not really in any position to-" Jack starts to deny me until he's interrupted.

Sayid comes barging into the small clearing the same way he left earlier. "He got away." the man spits, "He ran off and we're hoping that whoever you are both with will try to come back and save you."

And reality hits me; Ben wouldn't come back for me. But Sayid and Jack and everyone else can't know that. I think for a moment, deciding my next move.

"What are you talking about?" I incredulously ask, "My Dad and I aren't 'with' anybody why would you think that?" I justify the blatant lie with the need to find out how much they know. It doesn't seem like they have a whole lot. Hopefully, it will take a lot of evidence-evidence Sayid and Jack don't possess-to convince the other survivors of my guilt. Part of my reason for being here in the first place was to seem innocent and unassuming; a goal that will hopefully greatly play in my favor.

"Well other than _Daddy-Dearest_ sneaking off to who-knows-where in the middle of the night; no one saw you on the plane! No one has found any luggage for you or Peter at all, and it seems like all you two have done is meddle in everyone's business! Now tell me, who are you spying for? Someone in the island?" Sayid shouts, angrily getting in my face.

"Me nor my dad are spies." I state firmly, with a hint of sarcasm.

This apparently only further enrages the man. Sayid raises a fist and slams it across my face, causing my head to rebound against the tree and I'm knocked unconscious.

* * *

A white, foggy haze clouds the edges of my vision as I stand, disoriented.

Walt comes up behind me, tapping me on the shoulder and I spin around to him just in time to hear his open-throated war cry. He has a sword, somehow made of real metal, and is slinging it at me. I dodge the sword barely and dart across the bare beach to hide behind a tree, chest heaving and my legs not working fast enough. I keep checking over my shoulder for a distance-check of Walt as he checks me.

I finally reach the tree and force my back against the opposite side, heart beating intensely as I attempt to stay silent and out of sight. I don't hear anything, so I poke my head around the left of the tree and see the beach now clear. I release a tight breath and return my back to the tree when I see Walt expertly pointing his thin sword at my face directly. I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath, waiting for the wound that would kill me.

But the blow doesn't come and I hear Walt completely drop the weapon in the sand. "We need to work on your fighting skills, Wendy-Bird." Walt laughs, now jumping and standing upon a tall rock at the edge of the beach. I get it, he's Peter Pan; from the story Rose told us. And I'm Wendy.

I slowly turn around completely, pushing past him and smile as I run down the edge of the forest. "Why don't you just _fly_, Peter?" I tease, calling over my shoulder. He chases me were he finally stops and falls to his knees. I turn around and stop as well, allowing myself to laugh at Walt crouching below some trees.

"We need to build on your endurance." I say mockingly.

But Walt stands angrily. He points the sword at me once again and it still catches me majorly off guard.

"What are you doing?" I say cautiously and timidly.

"You lied. You aren't Wendy-bird. You aren't anything you said you were. You lied to me and Kate and everybody else. I shared the river with you. We were friends." He says, angrily and hurt.

Tears well up in my eyes and are soon cascading down my cheeks. "We are friends." I insist. But Walt shakes his head disappointedly and runs off into the woods with his sword.

"Walt!" I call after him, "Where are you going?" I sigh, defeated, and sit down against the tree. I hear a twig snap further into the forest, and I swing my head over my shoulder to see.

I see Rachel gracefully step out of the underbrush, looking exactly like she did over a decade ago, healthy and alive.

"Rachel?" I ask, jaw ajar.

She stops in front of me and kneels. Rachel's eyes adoringly dart around my body. "You've grown up so much." She reaches out to caress my cheek, but instead, she harshly grabs it. "Look what they've done to you." Her voice full of disgust as she pushes my face away. Then adds, "What _she's_ done to you."

My heart drops. "Who are you talking about? Juliet?" I ask as if for her to refute the claim.

"Yeah," Rachel verifies, "_That_ whore."

"Juliet isn't a whore. Why are you saying these awful things?" I sob. I've never heard Rachel say such terrible things in her life.

"Because it's true. She's made you be exactly like her." Rachel spits. She doesn't mean that in the good way.

"But Rachel," tears spill from my eyes, "She loves you. I love you. We're sisters. We've missed you." I feel hot and sticky, but I somehow can't rip my eyes away from her.

Rachel scowls down at me as she stands, as if me and Juliet's love physically hurts her. Rachel turns her back to me and slowly walks away, drifting back into the woods. As much as she's hurt me, I don't want her to leave. "Rachel!" I weakly shout, my voice straining and cracking. "Rachel! Don't leave!" I collapse against the tree trunk, defeated and sobbing, deeply wounded.

"Who's there?" A voice, deeper this time, pierces through the thickness of the forest. The voice freezes me as soon as the recognition flashes through my mind. I don't respond-I don't move a muscle-hoping he'll go away.

_But I'm not so fortunate_.

"Whatta surprise." The man taunts, sadism clear in his eyes. I glare up at him, now my turn to be angry.

The man takes several steps to stand over me. "That's no way to treat your father." He states in a commanding sort of way, slowly pacing around me and the tree that's supporting me. Much like an animal circling it's prey. I stay silent and unflinching.

"You've gotten so much bigger." he observes, almost adoringly but ruins it. "And have so much more self-control, now." He grabs the bottom of my chin and shoves it forward, nearer to him. "So much more fight in your eyes." He breathes. I stubbornly stare up at him, enraged by his patronizing and sadistic behavior, as well as how powerless he makes me feel. "It's cute." He stands himself up and suddenly pulls a gun out of the back of his pants; instantly heightening the tensions of the current situation.

Somehow, I know he can't shoot me, but everything feels so real.

The knowledge emboldens me, though the doubt in myself-that he always makes me feel-that I could be wrong and die is still strongly prevalent. I close my eyes, waiting for him to end it. End me. I hear him take the safety off, and prepare myself, waiting in endless agony. But the sound never comes.

Both my Father's and I's attention is thrown to footsteps entering the clearing. I watch the situation turn from bad to worse in front of my eyes as my Mother stumbles into the clearing, Ben's gun pointed point-blank to her head. For a second, I allow myself to rejoice that Ben is here to save me; but when are things ever that simple?

"I'm going to give you two options." Ben authoritatively commands to my Mother. "Either you die; or your daughter does."

The tension is palpable. My mother looks conflicted, eyes flickering occasionally over to me. With each second that passes, my stomach drops further. Does she even have to consider the situation? Shouldn't the obvious answer to save your own flesh-and-blood? Apparently not, as my mother lowers her head in shame; her final decision has been made. She is pushed into the grass to our right and lands with a hard thump. But I'm too busy to notice.

Ben points his gun at me. He cocks the gun and is about to pull the trigger when yet _another_ person comes running out of the woods; those woods will never cease to amaze me.

Juliet stands between Ben and I just as Ben pulls the trigger. The events happen in slow motion. Juliet diving between me, literally taking a bullet for me, and her hitting the ground again. Though this time, she lands directly on her back, knocking the wind from her. She's dead before she hit the ground.

I rush forward, forgetting else. "Jewels, please don't leave me here." I cry, pulling her shoulders in my lap and I brush the hair from her dirty face. I collapse over her; sobbing.

A beat passes before I look up, realizing our mother stands a couple feet away. "This is your fault!" I shout at her, my voice weak and crackled from crying so much. But my mom only stares blankly at Juliet's dead face. "Mom!" I want to tell her how much I hate her, but I need her in the situation. "Mom!" I shout again, to no avail.

"Mom! Look at me!" I beg, tears streaming down my face once again. She shows no emotion as she watches Juliet's blood pour across my lap and all over me. This can't be happening; Juliet can't be dead.

I lift my hands to eye level, just now noticing the blood coating them, before I see Ben and drop my hands. His gun is still pointed at me as he storms over to me. I feel numb, emotionless, as if this weren't real.

Ben finally reaches me, puts the gun to my head.

He pulls the trigger. _**BANG**_.

Back into nothingness.

* * *

When I open my eyes next, I am sticky with sweat and the sun has just come up. I squint my eyes to look to the sky as my eyes adjust to the sunlight, severely shocked to learn I had been asleep for several hours.

Walt is sitting in front of me, just staring at me intensely. I don't say anything, unable to meet his gaze. I watch as Walt struggles to search for the right words. "Who are you?" He finally spits, anger and pain concealed by his sharp words.

"I'm Sophia. You know that." I allow the pain show in my voice, trying to convey that I'm telling the truth.

"No you aren't." He denies.

"Yes I am!" I insist. But it's hard for me to insist on something that's so blatantly a lie.

"Jack said something about your dad sneaking out every night." Walt's tone turns away from rage and more towards vulnerability, "You know, I saw him once. The night we slept next to the fire." I nod, remembering before Walt continues, "I woke up to Peter-or whatever his name is-walking through the camp and towards the trees. I thought he was just going to the bathroom, but he was there for a really long time." I nod again, silently agreeing in attempt to be understanding.

"You know, Sayid and Jack were going to-" Walt starts, but is cut off by a dark hand throwing him back and into the grass. Sayid stands in front of me, heaving in anger.

"I'm tired of the crap. You're going to tell me what the hell is going on." He gets to his knees and strattles my legs to balance himself.

The man leans into my face, his only inches from mine. "You have one final chance to explain everything." He threatens.

I keep my face blank, not responding. The fierceness is undoubtably conveying itself through my eyes, but I can't control it. Sayids face morphs into a snarl as he pushes himself about a foot back.

With my hands tied behind me around a tree, the man punches me in the face. The next blow comes before I can brace myself and delivers to my jaw. Sayid punches me several more times, in the shoulder and the ribs, one after the other. It hurts to move anything so I try to limit my movement even more than it already was. Sayid catches me off guard by rising to his feet and kicking me several times in the stomach and ribs and legs. I marvel at his consistency and relentlessness anger. It quickly becomes hard to breathe, the air being forced from my lungs. I struggle to intake the oxygen and soon begin to feel dizzy from Sayid's beating.

"Please, Sayid, stop." I manage to choke out, pain and struggle apparent in my voice.

"Stop?" Sayid falls to his knees to get in my face again. He puts his hand around my throat, squeezing to further restrict my air intake, before he tantalizes, "You want me to stop?" I can feel his straining huffs of hot breath on my face. "Then tell me who you and your _father_ are working for." I keep myself from nodding and agreeing to tell him like I want to, my expression shifting to a scowl.

"Fine then." He states, standing up. I let a flash of confusion flash on my face before Sayid lifts his fist and slams it into my face, knocking me out.

* * *

My head is throbbing; it feels as though a thousand drums are banging on my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut, not ready for the additional pain that the sunlight will add.

I feel something cold being dabbed on my forehead. It's soothing. But I keep my eyes closed until the pounding mostly subsides. I feel a sudden wave of nausea and my eyes fly open as I lean to my side and empty the contents of my stomach into the grass. I close my eyes again, feeling a little better, and lean straight up against the tree.

"Feel better?" A soft, mellifluous voice questions. My eyes take several long moments to adjust, but I soon see Kate kneeling in front of me. She's got a rag in her hand and a small bucket of water beside her. She must have been cleaning whatever damage Sayid did earlier. I nod tiredly. But Kate doesn't let me rest long.

"Who are you?" She begrudgingly asks, her eyes pleading with me.

"My name is Sophia." I answer blankly.

"You always are not answering my questions, huh?" Kate calls my bluff, smiling into her lap, I guess finding the humor in the statement about my lie. I see it too, but the circumstances weigh my usual light mood to heavy.

I compromise with a melancholy "I guess I do." And a forced, tight-lipped half smile that morphs into me biting my lip. Kate sighs, redirecting herself again.

"I meant _who_ are you, not your 'name'." Kate clarifies.

And it's in that moment that I am faced majorly with the choice. It's useless to continue my façade; my cover was efficiently blown by Goodwin. I send him a mental scowl as I let my blood boil for a moment for his sloppiness and betrayal. But I'm back at the choice I'm confronted with; tell the truth and who knows what'll happen-who knows what action either side will take, or most certainly die at the hands of Sayid. Neither options sound peculiarly fantastic but I have to go with one that I believe will most likely get me back to Juliet.

"My name is Olivia Burke, and I'm an Other." I admit, my face mostly emotionless, save for the hint of pain and fear. I use the word that I've heard the people in the village have been called for years and heard.

Kate raises her eyebrows, genuinely shocked at my compliance. "_You_ are an Other?" She sounds to have an unique tone; one with disbelief as well as intrigue. I gulp, my chest tight, then nod cautiously.

Kate tries to remove the surprise from her face, replacing it with a focused look. "Why did you come here, to our camp?"

"I was sent." I tell her, intentionally being vague, attempting to avoid the inevitable next question.

But of course, she asks it.

"_Why_?"

My mask breaks with desperation. "Please don't make me tell you." I plead.

Kate is confused and she pushes the line that I'm not willing to cross. "Why can't you tell me?"

I debate for several beats before I answer, "He'll kill me." My voice is solemn and desperate. But Kate huffs lightly; she doesn't believe me. I guess my credibility was injured when Goodwin was made.

With the great timing they have, Sayid and Jack come out into the clearing and Jack sits next to Kate but Sayid stays standing. "She said her name is Olivia Burke. She's an Other." Kate updates them. Sayid stonewalls but Jack raises his eyebrows in surprise, attention fully on me, as I sheepishly withdrawal against the tree.

But I keep my eyes on Kate, trying to convince her. "Look," I plead, "I have a sister. Her name is Juliet. We want to leave as much as you do." I beg them to believe me. And my outcry seem to stop them cold.

"You mean you're trapped here too?" Jack asks, incredulously. I nod fervently.

"Three years." I supply.

"She's _lying_!" Sayid interrupts the situation with the angry accusation. "Why are you believing her? She's probably an Other, she wouldn't lie about that. But how do we know she isn't as voluntarily evil as 'Peter' when he killed one of our men?"

I verbally gasp. I didn't know he _killed_ anybody.

"Why were you sent here?" Jack inquires.

"I can't tell you that!" I exasperate. I'm frustrated and scared for me and Juliet's life, or whatever else Ben will do to us.

"Why not?" Sayid shouts.

"Because he'll kill Juliet, and then me!" I exclaim. Tears pour down my eyes.

"You'd like us to believe that wouldn't you! Clever of them, sending in a little girl to do their bidding. They're cowards! All of your people!" Sayid shouts at me, exploding.

"They aren't _my_ people!" I deny.

"Well then I guess no one will miss you." Sayid pulls a gun, cold and calculated, and points it at my head.

"_Stop it_! She's just a girl!" Kate jumps in between the gun and me.

"No, she's not! She's deceitful and a liar! Who knows what she's doing here! She could be trying to kill us all." Sayid demands pointedly.

Jack pushes the gun away from Kate and I, "She's not going to kill anybody."

Sayid runs a hand through his hair as he turns his back away from us and Jack stands to follow him, leaving Kate to supervise me.

Kate leans in, "Olivia, I need you to tell me who sent you here."

"I can't answer that." I say. I'm actually not sure if I can, but I'd say it's safe to assume not.

"Well what_ can_ you answer, dammit." Jack reproaches me, nearing Kate and I again after sending Sayid away.

"I can tell you my name is Olivia and that I am as trapped here as you are." I state, leaning against the tree.

"Well if we are going to let you go, we will need more than that." Kate suggests. Jack sends her a side glance, apparently disapproving the idea of setting me free. He grabs her arm and leads her a little ways away, with me still in eyesight, as they talk in hushed voices.


	9. Day 6, Night, and Day 7

Nowhere 9

Day 6, night; Day 7

Jack and Kate whisper for only a moment before Jack leaves her-apparently issuing an order-and Kate sends me a concerned glance before following Jack back towards the beach. Left in the clearing alone for once, I use the opportunity to collect myself.

This is really bad. Sayid wants me dead, but Kate and Jack seem to be interested in keeping me alive. As long as I give them information, at least. But I can't really give them anything. Not without giving Ben good cause to kill me. So either way there's an easy threat of death. I just need to get to Juliet, she'll help me. If I can just lie my way there, I'll be alright.

A bush rustles a couple feet away and I inwardly groan; I thought I would be provided a slightly longer reprieve from Sayid's fists or Kate's prodding questions. But neither of them immediately emerge from the brush.

It's Ethan, of all people.

He has a knife out and my heart jumps in my chest. My eyes widen as he rushes up to me and drops to his knees. He looks focused and determined. I think he's about to hurt me when he slices at the manacles and the rope falls from around me.

Stilled in thorough surprise, Ethan yanks me to my feet and takes the first moment of steadying myself to standing to issue a quiet command through his teeth, "Hurry. Up."

I am fully obedient and follow him eagerly into the forest. Accustomed to the vegetation and climate, Ethan and I easily glide through the thick underbrush. We don't talk, I just step as he does, our goal being to get us off this island and onto ours. I notice him not taking us too far into the forest and agree with his exit plan. Take us around the outskirts of the forest, avoiding the dangerous center, to get to the side closest to our island and far enough from the plane survivors to ensure safe passage. We hike swiftly, though it's no easy trail, and make good time.

We arrive at where Ethan hid the small raft just before dawn. I help him uncover it and get the raft in the water but sit in middle of it so he can steer the motor. I hug my knees as the water lightly sprays me and the sunrise warms my face once again.

"So what did Goodwin tell Ben when he found out that Goodwin had been made?" I ask, suruptilliously wanting to discover the consequences for failure, however partial.

Ethan is confused, "Goodwin didn't tell Ben that the survivors found him out."

My heart flips. "Why not?" I sputter. Is there some sort of underhanded plan that I need to be aware of? Was Goodwin that concerned over the repercussions to even mention it to Ben?

"Goodwin is dead." Silence.

But I break it. "No he's not... Could he be?... No, the survivors told me he got away." I deny, not willing to believe it.

"The blonde man and the Arab killed him two days ago." Ethan informs me stoically, then, seeing my internal destruction, adds a gruff but sincere, "I'm sorry."

We don't talk for a while. The heat beats down on us, the harsh sunlight worsening my sunburn. I am eventually given some makeshift paddles and follow his lead with the strokes. The more we paddle, the more exhaustion sets in, but we preserver.

The next two hours are excruciating, but we soon land on the beach. Ethan hands me some water for a short break, but we are soon on our way. The tall trees mostly protect us from the sun, but we are un immune from the suffocating humidity of the island. Drenched and dripping in my own sweat, I follow Ethan down the path towards the barracks.

The closer we get to the village, the tighter my stomach clinches. I know Juliet will be mad, but I hope she'll forgive me. And Ben-as always-is completely unpredictable. I imagine he'll be angry in some regard, but about what leaves me concerned. I subtly try to smooth out my hair as I near the barracks, attempting to not appear totally uncivilized. Using my shirt, I wipe off the dirt and sweat from my face and hiss as the cuts sting. I can't see myself, but mentally approve of my efforts.

We finally pass the fence, and several minutes later arrive at the barracks. Before Ethan even completely parks the car, my door is slung open and I'm running across several lawns to Juliet and I's house. I see Ethan jogging behind me but pay him no mind as I step onto my porch. I grab the handle excitedly and force the door open. "Juliet, I'm back!"

But I notice she isn't on the couch, reading a book as she typically is, as I step into the living room. "Juliet?" I call once again, glancing into the kitchen-the second most likely place for her to be. But she isn't there.

I take several hurried steps into the house, leaving the front door open for Ethan, as I scan the entirety of the living room. When I seem she isn't in here, I run further in the house. "Juliet!" I exasperate, frustrated and worried. Down the hall, I look to my left; Juliet's room. She's not there. I look to the room on my right; maybe she missed me so much she is in my room. But she's not in there either.

I completely brush off whatever bit of comfort or explanation is attempted from Ethan-who is now standing in my living room-running past him and back onto the porch, satisfied my sister is not in the house. I scan the barracks immediate to my own and see Alex on her porch, apparently hearing my homecoming.

I run to her, fully aware Ethan remains only a couple steps behind. "Alex," I breathe heavily from my ballyhoo, "Do you know where Juliet is?"

"At the lab with my dad, I think. They've been there all week." Alex quickly supplies.

"Thank you!" I call over my shoulder, already running towards the lab.

I race down the same path Juliet and I would take every morning. I pass the school, and the spot where Juliet would kiss my cheek each single morning before she headed to work at the lab. It's crazy to think that our routine was interrupted not even a week ago. It feels like Ben yanked me from class a lifetime ago.

My legs tire, but my will to reach my sister does not. I ignore my pounding heart and my heaving lungs as I approach the lab. I bust through the double doors and blatantly ignore all the normal sign-in procedures as I advance to the next set of doors. Where would Juliet be? Probably in the self-deemed 'research room'. It's the room consisting of the recent patients' x-rays and charts and samples to be compiled and cogitated upon. I know Juliet spends a lot of time in there on a regular basis.

After successfully navigating myself to the room, I bust through the aluminum doors. Several doctors in white coats and other professionally dressed individuals stand peering at a patient's file, backs towards me. But I can recognize a certain blonde anywhere.

She glances over her shoulder nonchalantly at first, but soon does a double take. She quickly shoves the file into someone else so she can turn and run to me. We meet in the near middle of our intersection and she takes me into her arms in a long-awaited reunion.

She hugs me around my torso strongly, but not painfully, in a support full way that makes me confident that she could hold me forever. My arms tightly secure themselves below hers and I would be content to never let go again. She slips one hand up to cradle my head against her, bringing me even closer and deeper within her embrace. I feel warm, happy tears against my cheek as we sink to the ground, still hugging.

Someone above us clears their throat, but Juliet and I are still too focused on relishing our reunion to care. Only when the other person repeats their gesture do I peak up at them. Ben towers over the both of us, looking clearly displeased. He also sends an equally unhappy glare to Ethan, before Ben grabs my arm. He rips me from Juliet once again-though more literally this time-and stands me on my feet. Juliet follows me up. Ben attempts to step to drag me from the room, but Juliet quickly and efficiently ends that plan. "Get your hands off her." She barks.

Two off Ben's henchmen, Matthew and Luke, grab both me and my sister and extract us from the room. Seeing no reason to fight, I take Juliet's hand and follow her lead to calmly walk to Ben's office with the escorts and their big guns. Several minutes later, it's just Juliet and Ben and I alone in his office.

As soon as the door is shut, the tension rises. "What the hell is going on here Ben?" She stands behind me, her arms protectively on my shoulders. I glance in the reflection of a picture on the wall to look behind me to Juliet-now really looking at her-as Ben takes a seat, sighing. I notice how exhausted and unwell she looks. The normally clean-cut and pristine doctor looks sloppy and unkempt. Her hair isn't strait and stands stick out in odd directions. Her eyes are puffy and cloudy. Juliet's usual radiant skin is pale and almost dull, save for the spark of heat now in her cheeks. What happened to her since I was gone?

"I thought it was for the best..." Ben starts.

Then I realize it; Juliet's glassy eyes and red nose, almost like she had been crying. Ben's genuine surprise to see me, and his death-glare to Ethan. The guards escorting us here.

Ben never expected me to come back from the 'mission'. He already told her I was dead.


	10. Day 7, Part II

"You told me she was _dead_, Ben." Juliet charges angrily towards him, finger accusatory and pointing, before she extinguishes into sadness and heartbreak. "I thought she was dead." She whispers.

Ben stands firm, a hard look on his face. "I did what I had to do Juliet." He deadpans in a monotoned tirade.

Juliet does the unexpected. She brings up her right hand and slaps Ben's check. It isn't hard, but the sound echoes throughout the office. Juliet's face contorts in surprise and shock as she brings her hands up to cover her mouth while Ben maintains his stern, expression-less expression.

"Ben, I..." But Juliet doesn't finish.

"Go home Juliet. We'll talk about this when you've calmed down." Ben orders, his tone more exhausted than angry.

Juliet stands there for a beat, still shocked, but quickly turns-eyes cast downward-and steps quickly toward the door, grabbing me on the way out. We don't stop until we get back to the house.

She forces me inside and closes the door hurriedly behind us, though I doubt anyone followed us back. Once we're finally alone in our own home, Juliet kneels down on her knees to look me clearly in the face. Inspecting, she gently gives me a thorough glance over. Juliet's soft hands lift my arms and turn my face to get a clearer picture of the damage inflicted upon me, pain evident in her features. She then takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen counter, and helps me jump up-just like she used to when I was younger and had gotten hurt. Which was often; Juliet consistently reminds me of my ambitious-and clumsy-childhood self that would embark on daring and often stupid adventures that would land me bloody and sitting on the counter, more often than not. But Juliet didn't mind.

"So where were you for the past couple of days?" Juliet, starting to dab at my face with a washcloth fetched from under the sink, focused-ly inquires. Her mouth hangs slightly parted as she delicately cleans the cuts with a steady medical hand.

"Ben told me to help with the mission-that it'd be our ticket home. I just had to spy on the survivors and-"

"Survivors?" Juliet distances herself to question me, "Like, survivors from the plane." She more of explains to herself than further interrogates my validity, as she does when deeply cogitating on a subject.

"Yes," I affirm, "Ben ordered me to act as Goodwin's daughter and pretend to be one of the survivors. You know, to live as one of them and blend in." I throw in Goodwin's name, aware of my sister's fondness of him as she resumes her task of cleaning my injuries.

"Oh, Goodwin! I hadn't known he was a part of the oppression." Not that Ben would have told her, "Where is he now?" She asks, clueless and casual.

I gulp deeply. "Goodwin is dead."

Juliet, receiving more shocking news of the day, slams her hand with the rag on the counter beside me. She brings the other hand to cup her forehead as she takes a constricted deep breath. "He's d-dead?" Her voice shakes.

I reach up and pull the hand from her face and pull it back down to my lap, comfortingly clasping it, and drawing her attention to me. "Yes." I say slowly.

She slips her hand from my lap and turns to the sink, staring out the window. Juliet drags the back of her hand and the rag across the bottom of her nose as I watch tear-once again-stream from her eyes. Her chest rises unevenly a couple times before she turns back to me. "How?" She says, feeling stronger.

"I'm not sure, I didn't see it." I inform her truthfully and when she looks saddened, I rush to provide information, "But someone from the plane crash told me that he was caught running away, so he shot two people trying to escape before he was shot and killed."

The information causes Juliet to turn away to the window again, pensive. Only a couple moments pass before she turns back. "Why?" She shrugs, "Why did Ben send you two out there? It's basically a suicide mission? What was the point?" Juliet begins to get worked up, walking the line of hysteria.

I take her hands to calm her and it helps. "Ben told us that he needed lists. Lists of people that are worthy to come back here, with us." I tell her before pausing, "Though I don't think he expected either of us to make it back. Especially me."

Juliet takes me into her arms, quickly as if she expected Ben to suddenly appear and rip me from her. "I don't understand why he would do this." She thinks aloud. I just allow myself to be soothed as I bury my face in her hair and her hands lightly rub my back.

She pulls back-sooner than I would've liked-and attempts at a smile through the tears remaining on her face, though it comes out pitied and desperate. "You smell awful. Let's get you in the bath." I nod gratefully and follow her to the bathroom we share.

She runs the water, adding bubble bath, and I grab the soaps and the brush. As the water and bubbles fill the tub, Juliet yanks at my filthy waves.

* * *

_"Liv! Here! Now!" Juliet's voice calls to me from down the hall. I tug on my jeans, buttoning them as I run, and race down the hallway to Juliet's bathroom. "Sit." She commands, brush already in hand. I groan as I sit on the small seat, palms flat against the porcelain counter in anticipation._

_"None of that," in a playful tone as she laughs, "we could just chop it all off." We spent the next ten minutes tugging the brush through my tangled curls._

_"But Jules..." I whine, the pain agonizing and long, "can't I just have a braid? Like your's?" Nine year old me wanted to do everything exactly like my grown-up big sister._

_"We have to brush it first, but that's fine." She attempts to maintain her stern assertion, but fails and reveals a silly smile before beginning a compromise of two pig-tail braids._

* * *

"So you and Goodwin were together a lot this week?" Juliet asks sadly, sitting beside the tub.

I nod before inserting a verbal response as well, "Yeah. He... We were ordered to act as Father and Daughter. We had to pretend and sleep near eachother and be responsible for eachother. It was... Different." I tell her.

As the bath continues, I tell her all about my stay with the survivors of Oceanic 516. As dangerous and miserable it was, it was... different. In the exotic and new kind of exciting way. I tell Juliet about how we got to the island and what roughing it was like, and describe to her all the people-how I liked some, and didn't others. I tell her about what I did and the games I learned and even Walt and I's secret spot that isn't much of a secret now that so many people know about it. She seems fairly impressed with all of it. She angers at the part about Sayid and my description of the beating and how I received the bruises and cuts I have now. Juliet questions Ethan's motive of my attempted kidnapping, and I have to explain to her it's helpfulness before she stands to storm off to Ethan's this very moment. We both smile as I recount my chocolate bars, and speculates on the meaning of my odd dreams. She angers at the part about Sayid and my description of the beating and how I received the bruises and cuts I have now. By the end of the tale, the water is luke warm.

"But yeah. That's what happened," I say, matter-of-factly.

"But," Juliet tries to put her seemingly ineffable confusion into words, "Why did Ben send _you_? What was the point of sending a little girl? You're literally the most untrained and innocent in the camp."

"I'm not some _little girl_!" I object, though I know that because I feel the need to deny the notion, somewhat strengthens it.

"I know, babe," she assures me, "but you know what I meant."

I bite my lip, thinking of whether to answer her question or not. The implications of my suspicion for being sent would not be overlooked in Juliet's eyes. Part of me is afraid of the consequences, not of my own, but of Juliet's inevitable actions. I don't want her to freak out and try to get back at Ben. No one could ever win against him. I stand from the tub and step onto the soft rug beside to allow Juliet to wrap a towel around my body. I can see the love and ambivalence in her eyes as she decides not to coddle me again, so I smile up at her as I dry myself.

"Thanks, Jules. I-I really did miss you. A lot. And it feels really great to be clean again." I tell her. She sends a tight-lipped smile as she begins to drain the tub.

A moment passes before I speak up again. "Juliet?" I timidly ask.

"Mhmm?" She absentmindedly addresses me, occupied with tidying the now dirty bathroom.

"I think," deep breath, "I think I know WHY Ben sent me." _There's no going back now._

That gets Juliet's attention. She's kneeling on her knees near the dirty clothes hamper about a foot away, but she pauses and allows my distressed-and probably ruined-shirt to fall to her lap in her hands. Her eyebrows furrow, urging me to continue and explain myself.

"He pulled me out of school and took me straight to his desk, then the docks. He wouldn't let me see you, or tell you goodbye so I couldn't inform you about the mission. Then, while with the survivors, he only had me in contact with Ethan indirectly through Goodwin, and gave me minimal information or instruction. He didn't have me told how or when or where Goodwin would speak to Ethan. I was only there for superfluous cover for Goodwin. Then, when Goodwin was... killed, I wasn't given instructions on how to handle the survivors beating me. But I was leisurely rescued because Ben knew there was nothing I could tell them, though I don't think Ethan was supposed to rescue me at all. Based on Ben's reaction in the hospital and what he told you, he hadn't expected me to show up around here again. So I was rushed out the village for some unnecessary job, and Ben lied to you because he-"

"He didn't expect you to survive the assignment." Juliet answers numbly.

I approach her and kneel down in front of her. "By assigning me _and_ Goodwin to the mission, Ben would easily knock everyone out to be the most important person in your life."

"You really think he would do all that, just to get close to me?" Juliet eyebrows and lips tense together with guilt, her eyes distant and cloudy.

"I doubt the mission was his idea, but I assure you that his assignments of it was." I state.

Juliet's face breaks as she pulls my towel-incased body close to her and wraps her arms around me. "Liv, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." I feel her hot tears on the top of my hair.

"It's not your fault, Jules," I sympathize, "I don't blame you. This is Ben's doing." I remind her.

"I-I didn't realize he was so rancorous. We need to be more careful around him." Juliet states.

"We've all seen how he looks at you, Juliet. There's so much desire to impress you and provide for you. He's always been possessive and overly-protective. Maybe you could use that?" I suggest, then my eyes widen at the implications, "I d-didn't mean like that!"

* * *

"_How do I look?" Juliet steps out into the living room, smoothing out her dress. The dress is one of her lesser conservative ones-per my suggestion-but not prurient in the slightest. It's a classy blue, sleeveless, silky material with silver accents. She's pulled her hair back with a clip and wears a silver necklace-bracelet set that I gave her for her birthday this past winter._

_"Earrings." I state, reminding her._

_"Oh yeah." She chuckles, her laughter brightening the whole one-roomed apartment. She dips back into her room and I stand up, leaving my copy of _THE CRUCIBLE_ next to me on the couch, following her into her room and plopping onto her bed in the center of the room._

_There, she's leaning towards the mirror-the one on the wall next to the door-straining to put her long earrings in. I laugh at the sight of her desperately trying to get ready and approach behind her. "Jules, you didn't zip up your dress all the way." I zip it to the top and she turns around._

_"I guess I'm a little nervous." She sighs with a weak smile._

_"Don't worry, Jules. This will be good for you. This guy, you said his name is Ed? He's a doctor right? Right up your alley. Just enjoy yourself, you deserve this, you work so hard." I assure her, giving her a pep talk._

_She nods convincingly. "You're right. I deserve a little fun." Juliet tells herself more than me._

_Just then, someone knocks on the door. "Liv, can you get that? I have to touch up my makeup?" She pulls out a tube of lip gloss and begins applying it._

_"It's not gonna help..." I playfully sing-song over my shoulder. I duck out the doorway just as a pillow from Juliet's bed flies out of the door way and smacks forcefully on the opposite wall. I barely miss it. I lean back through the doorway, hanging onto the frame. "I meant that lovingly. That makeup can't make you any more beautiful than you already are. It's impossible." I smile adoringly and peck her on the cheek before I swing back out of the room._

_My bare feet patter down the hallway as I approach the door. I stand on my tip-toes to see out the peep hole in the doorway. A man in a black suit stands anxiously with flowers in his hand. I unlock the door and open it, arms folded across my chest._

_He appears somewhat startled but he forces a smile, quite fake looking in my opinion. "Hi," he bends down slightly, "You must be Liv."_

_I uncross my arms to place a hand on my hip. "Olivia, _actually_." I correct. I don't know this guy. The only people who can call me Liv are Juliet and Rachel, and Rachel's not around anymore._

_"Well aren't you sweet." His smile spreads, reminding me of the grinch._

_I scrunch up my face. _You bet I am_._

_I hear Juliet's heels ferociously clicking across the wooden living room floor. She reaches for her purse on the table beside the door while trying to turn to me when Juliet trips over herself-she always does get ditzy and clumsy when nervous. She falls into this Ed character, who catches her and they both laugh. _Oh brother_, I roll my eyes._

_Juliet gets to her feet, straightening herself, then leans over to kiss my cheek. "Asleep by 9, yeah? No TV until you finish your math." she suspiciously raises her eyebrows as she pulls her purse on her shoulder._

_"Yes mom." I grin cheekily._

_She slides her hand through the back of my hair and kisses my forehead again. Juliet gives me an almost sad tight-lipped smile. "Bye. Call me if you need me." She goes to step out of the door following Ed, but steps back in. She places another kiss on my forehead. "Love you." She says again._

_"Love you. Now bye!" I push her off as we both laugh and shut the door. I continue to smile until I sit on the couch, looking for the remote._

* * *

Juliet nods down at me, smiling just slightly, kind and ever-loving and reassuring. "I think you might be on to something, babe." She surprises me by developing the thought, "Maybe if I can utilize Ben's feelings for me, instead of denying it, we can convince him to send us home."

Her determination makes me doubt her ability to find the line where it's acceptable to stop. "Juliet, you don't have to do this." I warn.

Juliet stands, me following her immediately. "No, Liv, I have to. I have to search every route, do whatever it takes to get us off this damn island." She walks out of the bathroom and into her room with a purpose, leaving me stunned in the middle of the bathroom.

"What have I started?" I ask myself, huffing.

Juliet and I talk for a long time on the couch in the living room, after my bath. She fixes me a grilled cheese sandwich-as I hadn't had one in days-and some hot chocolate. With cinnamon on top, of course.

Juliet cranes her neck back so she can check the clock on the oven. "Holy smokes, Liv, it's after midnight!" Juliet stands, expectingly waiting for me to do the same. I check the clock; "12:16 AM". More often than not, I would oppose Juliet with an argument stating why I should continue to stay up, but I can't find it within myself tonight.

I follow her into the kitchen with my cup and place it in the sink for us to clean in the morning. "Of to bed with you." Juliet turns to hug me, and to follow it with a guaranteed consecutive kiss per usual, but I stop her.

"Can you tuck me in?" I give her my best sad puppy face. My sister actually seeing me to bed is an extreme rarity for special occasions.

Juliet rolls her eyes playfully before turning me towards my room, "What, you think being stranded on a deserted beach with hostile plane crash survivors is some big deal or something?" Her voice dripping in sarcasm. I huff over my shoulder but don't question her too much; I'm getting what I want.

We get to the end of the hall and turn to the left and I hurry to slide into my bed sheets, Juliet soon sitting on top of the blankets beside me. "I'm very glad you're back." She hugs me.

"Me too. I missed warm showers and eating real food. And most of all," she leans in, "my soft bed." I laugh at her expectation, but Juliet rolls her eyes and hits me with a pillow.

"You're _really_ funny, did I ever tell you that?" She tries to be mad, but is greatly unable to retain her cause. We smile for a beat before she sobers. "We can talk tomorrow about a game plan." Juliet and her plans; they're always something interesting. "But for tonight, good night. And I love you. A _whole_ lot." Juliet squeezes me.

"I know," I smirk, "And I love you too. See you tomorrow."

She pecks my forehead and I roll to my side and close my eyes as I feel her weight ride from the bed. I hear the floor wood tiles creek as they set under her but pause several steps away. "See you tomorrow." She whispers from the doorway. At first I dismiss it as a melancholy response, but it's not.

It's a promise.


End file.
